Not Your Rachel
by Harmonious Melody
Summary: A reconnection that nobody expects and the hurdles they must overcome.  Puckleberry.  M for various reasons.
1. Chapter 1

"Are you ready to do this again?"

Silence.

"Come now, you don't really think that you have anything to protect. Clearly you don't matter to them. Why should they matter to you?"

Nothing.

"Fine. You are only bringing this on yourself. I just hope you know. Everything that happens from now on is all your fault. She's all yours."

Shots ring out. The brunette laying on the floor doesn't even flinch. She is bound by hands and feet, curled on her side. Her eyes follow the men as they lift their guns in front of them and face the door. After a signal from the other man, the one on the right reaches to open the door when there is a flash of light and the door flies off the hinges, knocking the two men unconscious. The woman's covered in even more dirt and dust than before, but nothing can hide the bruises that cover every inch of her naked body.

Men in camouflage carrying automatic rifles pour into the room, many of the men walking past her and through the door on the other side of the room. Following them are two men, each wearing a bulletproof vest with three letters blazing on the front.

FBI.

"Clear!" comes the voice of one of the men in uniform and the taller man lowers his weapon as his eyes fall onto the woman on the floor. Her eyes are so swollen that he isn't sure they are even open but as he leans down, he hears her draw a shaky breath.

"Johnson, call for a med team. This one here is alive."

"She one of them?" is the response of the man named Johnson.

"Look at her. Do you really think they would do this to one of their own" the first man says angrily. He looks back at the woman. "Hold on, we are going to help you. Just hang on there."

His hazel eyes are the last thing she sees before everything goes black.

"Female. Aged around 30. Multiple severe lacerations to torso and extremities. Broken ribs and a possible punctured lung. She's been unconscious for over an hour."

The woman, now on the gurney begins to gain consciousness. All she can see is a bright light and the shapes of multiple heads hovering over her. She has the sensation of moving very fast and can only make out snippets of what is being said around her.

"…found during the raid…"

"…no identification …"

"…Agent Puckerman…"

_Puckerman_. She thinks that she must be hallucinating. But before she can put much more thought into the name, she feels a pinch in her left arm and blacks out again.

A/N: This story will be canon up to the Season 3 premiere. This is very different from what I normally do or think of so please, please, please REVIEW. This is just a teaser. The next chapter will be up by the end of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

I forgot to put this in the prologue (as I am calling the earlier post), but I do not own Glee. If I did, I think we would know who would be together. This _is_ Puckleberry

CHAPTER 1

"Miss Bassick. Welcome back."

Rachel opened her eyes to see a female doctor smiling down on her. She frowned and attempted to sit up, only to have the doctor gently push her back down to the pillow.

"Don't try to move around too much. You still need time to heal. Do you remember what happened to you?" Rachel nodded. "That's good. We were worried you may have brain damage. Do you know what date it is?" Rachel shook her head and the doctor frowned.

"What is the last day you remember?"

Rachel cleared her throat, but her voice was still dry and ragged as she answered. "I remember being taken away from the compound, but while I was there, I was unable to keep track of the days."

"Oh, well that makes sense." The doctor replied, less worried about her patient's mental capabilities. "Today is September 5th."

"2022?" Rachel asked.

"No, Miss Bassick-"

"Agent."

"I'm sorry?" the doctor said, confused.

"Agent Bassick. Not Miss Bassick." Rachel replied, stoically.

"Of course. I apologize. It is September 5th, 2023, Agent Bassick."

Rachel nodded, not looking at the doctor. "I understand. Is that all?"

"Well, no. You have multiple broken bones, as I'm sure you are aware of by now. There was evidence of more bones that were badly remodeled but have been rebroken and set correctly. You suffered a punctured lung as well as bruising on most of your ribs. Other than that, there was not much else internally, but externally-"

Rachel cut her off. "I know what happened to me externally. I would like to be alone now Dr…." she trailed off, realizing she did not even know the name of the woman.

"Hayes. My name is Dr. Elizabeth Hayes. You actually have a visitor. The agent who brought you in would like to see you." Something tickled Rachel's memory when Dr. Hayes mentioned the agent, but she could not figure out what it was. Before she could say anything, the doctor was leaving and telling someone on the other side of the door that they could come in.

Rachel's face was a mask of indifference when Agent Noah Puckerman walked in the room, but internally, she began to panic.

"Rachel?" he asked warily, slowly walking over the side of her bed, her eyes following him but not looking at his face. "Rachel," he said again. "It's me, Noah."

"I'm sorry. I don't recognize you." Rachel lied. "Dr. Hayes told me you found me."

Puck frowned. "The doctor told me you didn't have any brain damage," he said, pushing his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. Rachel took in his appearance. He looked fantastic. Professional in his suit that was obviously mandated for work considering the doctor had called him an agent, although for what agency she did not know. He was still extremely attractive and even more filled out than he was in high school. But she couldn't tell him any of this and continued to perplex him with her next words.

"I don't have any brain damage. We just haven't met. I'm Agent Bassick. I see the doctor already told you my first name."

Rachel was cut off before she could say more. "No. Nobody told me your first name. I already knew it. You're Rachel Berry. I don't know why everybody is calling you Bassick considering I saw your file and I know you are not married."

"You saw my file?" Rachel asked, suspicious.

"Yes, although there wasn't much to see. Just a legal name change and a whole shitload of stuff I don't have clearance for." Puck said.

"Well then I guess we are through." Rachel said, trying to get him to leave.

"No. I'm not going anywhere until you explain to me what's going on. Nobody will tell me anything."

"Well maybe you should take the hint and drop it. I have just been through a difficult ordeal and would appreciate it if you left." Rachel said, attempting to turn over, away from Puck.

"Berry…" he started.

Rachel snapped. "I am not Rachel Berry. You are to never repeat that name to anyone here. Do you understand me?"

Before Puck could say anything, another man walked in, followed by two others. The two behind the first were wearing ear pieces scanning the room before finally settling on him. The first man walked up to Puck and Rachel.

"Agent Bassick." He said, giving a nod to Rachel, which she returned. "Sir."

"Agent Puckerman." The man said, turning to Puck. "My name is Harold Gleason."

Puck's eyes widened slightly at the name. "Mr. Director." _CIA. Fuck me_.


	3. Chapter 3

Here's another chapter! Thank you so much to everyone for all the hits and I hope that this next chapter will be review worthy. I don't own Glee. Just thought I'd throw that in. ONWARD!

Chapter 2

"I was told that I would find you here," Mr. Gleason said, neither his face nor his voice revealing anything. "The CIA appreciates everything that you have done for Agent Bassick here."

Puck began to get a bad feeling about all of this. Not that he didn't already know that shit was gonna hit the fan when he realized that the woman on the floor of that room in Botswana was Rachel, but now knowing that CIA was involved, it got a ten times worse.

"Of course, sir. We made sure to treat Agent Bassick-" Puck shot Rachel a small glare when he said the name- "as if she was one of our own."

"We can see that," said Mr. Gleason. "Thank you for finding her."

"Actually, sir. We didn't know that the CIA had anyone in the area, much less being held hostage." Puck said carefully. "If you don't mind my asking-"

"Agent Puckerman," Gleason interrupted, "Agent Bassick and I need to have a few words before we go on. I understand that you have questions and I will be sure to answer as many as I can for you shortly, but for now, I must ask you to leave us." Inwardly, Puck bristled. He did not like being pushed aside by anyone and most certainly not when Rachel was now suddenly involved.

He looked over at Rachel only to see her fixing him with a blank stare. Puck turned back to Gleason.

"Of course. I'm going to wait in the hall for my partner to arrive. We need to ask Agent Bassick some questions of our own when you are done." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Rachel turn questioningly to Gleason, but was ignored.

"Certainly. We don't want to waste your time." Gleason said pointedly and Puck knew that the man felt as though Puck was doing just that. Knowing that he had overrun his welcome, Puck left the room, but stayed right outside, waiting for Johnson while keeping an eye on the conversation going on in the room.

Clearly the conversation was not one of concern for Rachel's well being. If anything, it looked like she was being chastised. Dr. Hayes had told Puck before he went in the room that she believed that Rachel had been held prisoner for over a year based on her confusion as to what year it was, but Gleason did not seem to care. They were having an obviously heated discussion and Puck saw Rachel glance out the window at him multiple times, letting him know what exactly was the issue.

The last few minutes consisted of a lot of talking from Gleason and mostly nods with the occasional 'yes, sir' from Rachel. Puck had grown increasingly concerned even though the entire exchange only took about five minutes. Right on cue, Johnson arrived as Gleason was leaving Rachel's room.

"Hey, man. The girl awake?" Johnson asked, handing Puck a cup of coffee. Normally Puck didn't follow the cop stereotype of a coffee and doughnuts, but at this point he could care less. He needed all the help he could get.

"Yes, Agent Johnson, she is," answered Gleason before Puck could answer. Johnson straightened up immediately, recognizing the man in front of him. "But you will not be talking to her."

"I'm sorry Director, but may I ask why not?" Johnson questioned, not understanding what was going on.

"Agent Puckerman will be interviewing Agent Bassick by himself. You will return to your office and handle the rest of the investigation into the cell you took down yesterday. Agent Bassick is not your concern." Gleason responded, leaving no room for more questions before he walked away.

"Um, what just happened?" Johnson asked.

"The fucking CIA happened."

"She's CIA?"

"Apparently," Puck answered, leaving Johnson out in the hallway, not even checking to see if he left.

When he walked through the door, he could see Rachel still looking at him with that blank stare that he was beginning to hate. He pulled up a chair next to her bed and pulled out the voice recorder he kept in his pocket. As he went to set it on the tray next to her bed, she reached out and turned it off.

"This will not be recorded."

"Actually, it will. FBI procedure," Puck said, glaring at her. Normally, he would be better at handling victims or anyone else he was interviewing, but the whole situation had him on edge and unfocused and his concern for her had turned to frustration for the time being.

"No, it won't. If you continue to argue with me, you can just walk right out that door."

"Fine," Puck growled. "So, Rachel-"

"Stop." Rachel interrupted.

"What?" Puck asked, getting even more frustrated.

"You will not be asking questions, Noah." It was the first time that she acknowledged who he was and that she even knew him.

"So now you remember me?" Puck asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Rachel fixed him with a withering look, the first sign of emotion from her since he walked in.

"My name is Agent Rachel Bassick. I am a field agent for the CIA. This is the first time that we have met. Ever."

"Right, and I shit rainbows."

"Honestly, Noah. Are you always this unprofessional?" Rachel snapped.

Puck laughed dryly. "For someone who just met me, you seem pretty familiar with me. I didn't even tell you my first name. Is that some secret CIA trick?" Puck knew that she was right, but he was just so angry and confused and he hated feeling that way. He was good at his job and was never confused.

"Get out." Rachel said, rolling her eyes in frustration.

"No chance in hell that that is happening." Puck responded leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "I want some answers."

"I am trying to give you some answers." Rachel said.

Puck shook his head. "No, you are giving me some spun bullshit and thinking that I am just going to accept that. I want actual answers."

"Well, to be honest, you don't have clearance for the actual answers." Rachel replied.

"I find that hard to believe, but fine. What can you tell me that is actually the truth?"

Rachel huffed. "I am a field agent for the CIA. I have been for seven years."

"Why were you in Botswana?" Puck asked, ignoring her no questions rule.

"I was obtaining information." Puck knew that she was not going to elaborate.

"We didn't find anyone else that was CIA at the compound. Were you sent in alone?"

"I had backup, but I was compromised and my team followed protocol."

"So they just left you there." Puck said rather than asked.

Rachel looked away from him. "They had their orders. They did exactly what I told them to. I already had sent them the information and therefore the mission was a success."

"How long did they leave you there for?" Puck asked, not believing that her team did enough for her and not hiding it.

"I was held there for one year, two months and five days."

"Shit, Rachel." Puck breathed.

"Is there anything else you need for your investigation?" Rachel asked, not meeting his eyes. Puck didn't actually really need to interview her at all for the investigation, considering all of the information he needed about her mission was on the way from Langley to his office. He wasn't yet ready to give up on finding out about her though.

"Where have you been all these years?" Puck pressed.

"It does not matter. Would you please leave?"

"Rachel."

"Noah."

Both agents stared at each other, not saying anything else. Puck's eyes were almost pleading with her for some answers while hers were just trying to push him away. Puck broke first.

"Fine," he said, getting up from his chair. "I'll be back tomorrow. The hospital staff knows how to get a hold of me if you need them to. You know, if you have something else you could tell me."

Puck reached for her hand and Rachel flinched at his touch, but did not push him away but did not encourage him either. He nodded at her as he pulled away and left her alone.

Rachel let herself let out a breath she didn't even realize that she was holding. She closed her eyes and willed the tingling in her hand from where his skin had touched hers to go away.

AN: I just want to say that I don't really have that much knowledge about federal agencies beyond what I see on TV and that my choices in locations (like Rachel being held in Botswana) are not supposed to mean anything as to my views on those countries or anything. I am just picking locations.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: I do not own Glee

Chapter 3

After a long night full of nurses interrupting her sleep and asking her the same questions over and over, Rachel was even more irritated to see Puck walk into her hospital room.

"Morning, Rachel. I brought you some coffee." Puck said overly cheerfully.

Rachel tried glaring at him but couldn't help but stare at the steaming cup in his hand.

"Coffee?" She asked.

"Starbucks Grande Soy No-Whip No-Foam Vanilla Latte." he said smugly.

Rachel wordlessly took the cup from his hand, groaning as she took her first sip of coffee in over a year.

"That is the right order, isn't it? Or do you not like that anymore?" Puck asked, nervous for the first time since he walked back into the hospital after a long night of thoughts and dreams plagued by Rachel.

"Mmhhmm. It's right. Thank you." Rachel said, composing herself back into the blank slate she was determined to remain.

Seeing the change, Puck sat down again in the same chair as yesterday, crossing his legs and studying her. Rachel just stared right back at him, one eyebrow raised as she continued to drink.

"So," Puck started. "It's been a while."

"You saw me yesterday." Rachel replied, her voice still flat.  
>"Of course. But before that, I mean." Puck said, never breaking eye contact with Rachel. "It's been, what, eleven years? You missed the ten year reunion."<p>

"I guess I did. Sorry about that; I was a little preoccupied last year." She threw back snidely.

Not truly knowing how or wanting to talk about her imprisonment just yet, he continued on his previous line of questioning. "So now we're going with we did know each other before yesterday?"

"Are you here as a federal investigator and agent, or as yourself?" She asked.

"Which one will get me a straight answer?"

Rachel stayed silent and turned back to face the door and stare straight ahead.

Puck sighed. "I'm here as your friend, Rachel." When he realized she was not going to look back at him without prompting, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I never got to tell you how sorry I am about your dads." He said quietly.

Rachel's jaw tensed as she closed her eyes, inhaling quietly but sharply. Puck knew, as much as he hated to bring it up, that bringing up her dads would cause some sort of reaction. Their senior year, right before graduation, Misters Berry had been found dead in their house from multiple gunshot wounds and rumor has it that Rachel was the one to have found them. After that day, nobody in Lima saw her; she didn't even go to graduation. It was assumed that she went to stay with some extended family before going off to New York for college, but Kurt said that he never saw her at NYU, where they had both been accepted and were planning to go.

Puck had thought about her many times over the years, but whenever everyone from New Directions got together, Rachel was a topic of conversation that was always avoided. He leaned forward a little more in his chair when he saw her slowly and steadily exhale the breath she was holding and turn to him. "Thank you for your condolences, Noah. They are appreciated" she said with little emotion in her voice, but she would only just meet his eyes before looking away.

"Everyone was pretty worried about you when you left. Ma and Sarah were going to offer for you to stay with us until you went off to NYU."

"That sounds very much like your mother," she said, finally meeting his eyes. "I made other arrangements, though." She cleared her throat softly before going on. "I couldn't stay in Lima."

"I understand," Puck said, reaching for her hand, happy that he seemed to be getting through her walls.

She let out a dry chuckle that had very little amusement in it as she took her hand out of his light grasp. "No you don't. I could not stay there, Noah. It wasn't safe."

Puck's eyebrows came together. "How do mean? The police report said that it was just a random act of violence and the guy was some loser drug addict. He's even back in prison now."

"You read the police report? Why would you do that?" Rachel began to fume.

"I wanted to finally know what happened. Maybe see where you went."

"Well, you were looking in the wrong place. Rachel Berry doesn't exist anymore."

"Yeah, what's up with the name change? Why did you just disappear?" Noah pressed, sitting up straight. He didn't intend to grill her like this, but emotions always ran high when it came to the two of them.

"I told you, it wasn't safe. I was put into Witness Protection. Rachel Berry ceased to exist."

"Why? Why wasn't it safe?" Noah tried again.

Rachel sighed. "If it was up to me, I wouldn't tell you."

"Rachel," Puck said softly, leaning forward once again, ignoring her last statement for the time being. "Why did you have to leave?"

"You remember that my Daddy was a lawyer, right?" Puck nodded. "He had just finished a case that sent a drug dealer from Columbus to jail for what could be the rest of his life. The night after the judge sentenced the man to prison, Daddy started receiving threats. The people sending them threatened to kill him if he didn't get the judge to overturn the ruling, not that he could. That's not the way the law works. You have to go through appeals in order to overturn the ruling once you are found guilty, after all, that's what is fair and why we have the judicial system." She was rambling like the old Rachel Berry used to, and he could tell she was nervous for the first time since he had seen her. He reached out to put his hand over where hers was her lap and this time she didn't move it away.

"Anyway, Daddy ignored them, and despite Dad and I wanting him to go to the police, he wouldn't. I was coming home from Ballet class when they were killed." Rachel said, looking down at their hands.

"Did you see the guy who did it?" Puck asked, almost whispering.

"No, but when the police went through the house, my room had been torn apart and there was a family portrait stolen. They believed that I would be targeted as a way of finishing the job and so I was immediately put into Witness Protection."

"Where did you go?" Puck asked, rubbing a thumb comfortingly over the back of her hand.

"Here in D.C. I was enrolled in classes at Georgetown and graduated before joining the CIA. And now I'm here." She replied, looking over at him.

"How did you end up in the CIA?"

"How did you end up in the FBI?"

_Fine, I suppose I should share some information, considering she's told me more than I thought I would end up finding out._

"After graduation, I ended up enlisting in the Army. Did two tours, got school paid for and then joined the FBI. I've been here for five years and moved up the ranks pretty quick." Puck answered.

Rachel's mouth turned up in what was the closest thing to a smile that Puck had seen from her. "I knew you would do great things, Noah," She said softly, placing her free hand on top of his hand. "I just always thought it would be in music."

"I thought the same for you. Everybody did." Puck replied, slightly embarrassed at her admission, even though she was probably the only person who had been proud of him in school and thought he wasn't a Lima Loser.

"I was in W.P. I couldn't do anything that would get me recognized, including performing. I wasn't even supposed to get my picture taken in case somebody posted it online. Plus," she said, looking down again, "singing reminded me too much of Dad and Daddy."

"So, you changed your name," Puck guessed, "and joined the CIA."

"After what happened, not only did I need a new identity, I needed to do something to make up for their deaths. I thought entering law enforcement would be just the thing. It turns out that being an excellent actress and having no personal connections is a draw for the CIA."

"Ha, no kidding." Puck said, wryly.

"Anyway, now you know what you need to know." Rachel said sitting up straight and taking her hands out of Puck's in order to run her hands through her long hair.

"There still sounds like a lot I don't know."

"You'll find out eventually. After all, we will be working in close proximity from now on." Rachel said matter-of-factly with a hint of annoyance.

Puck immediately sat up as straight as she was.

"What the hell are you talking about, Rach?" He asked slowly.

"You and I are now liaisons and partners between the CIA and FBI in this investigation."


End file.
